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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23535331">siempre lo he hecho</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/theinvisiblemay/pseuds/theinvisiblemay'>theinvisiblemay</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>somos almas gemelas [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Eventual Smut, Fluff, Gay Panic, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 16:21:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,782</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23535331</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/theinvisiblemay/pseuds/theinvisiblemay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>palermo knew berlin was a very talented artist, and that he took his time to draw between planning the next heist. what he didn't know was what was he actually drawing.</p><p>warnings: swearing, mentions of sexual abuse</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa &amp; Palermo | Martín</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>somos almas gemelas [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1712239</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>83</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>siempre lo he hecho</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this work is inspired by my beloved berlermo stans. if you're reading this, hello :)<br/>enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>dear diary. it’s day 14 of my little lockdown…</em>
</p><p><em>what the hell? what am i doing?</em>, palermo asked himself out loud. he spent another day studying maps and plans of the bank of spain. he was trying to memorize all of it as soon as possible, so he could be the smart guy in front of everyone; especially berlin.<br/>
he spent nights and days thinking about andres, he was the first person palermo thought about after waking up, and the last person he thought about before going to sleep. he wasn’t certainly sure why, but deep in the heart he knew this love is going to hurt.</p><p><br/>
</p><p>2 weeks later everyone was there with him. there were a lot of faces he didn’t know, but it didn’t matter as long as berlin was there too. at first it was quite a shock to him, because they all thought andres sacrificed himself in the mint. no one mentioned him, even sergio. that’s what made it all weird – why wouldn’t he mourn his own brother?<br/>
but he was alive. no one knew how, but he was there with them, and that was the only thing that mattered right now.</p><p>one night, after a fancy dinner with lots of wine, palermo decided to take a long, cleansing walk. he really needed to clear his mind after two hours of shamelessly staring at berlin’s bare chest, covered in bandages, scars and bruises. he got really hurt, but that was very typical of him. he didn’t care about himself, he always put family first. <em>who cares? i’m going to die anyway</em>, as he always used to say. and that’s what worried martin the most. his best friend, his soulmate was terminally ill, and he didn’t even have balls to straight up tell him about his feelings…<br/>
until now. the way berlin looked at the dinner – tired, quiet; the way his actions were speaking louder than words, the way he was trying to tell everyone he was ready to leave them forever. this was the one, hard push martin needed. suddenly he felt the confidence running through his veins, like a drug that gives you unlimited power.<br/>
so he turned around, took the last look at the breathtaking view and went back to the monastery. he was ready to risk it all, because who knew? it might have been his last chance.</p><p>it was a few minutes before midnight when he went to berlin’s room. with wine and glasses in one hand he knocked on the door and didn’t even wait for the invitation, just stormed into the room. it was surprisingly dark, the only light was from the moon washing the room white. martin decided to take a look around, since he’s never been there. after a few seconds he found andres’ sketchbook, and oh god it was so tempting to look inside. they’ve known each other for a long time now and martin knew he was a really skilled artist, but he never actually got to admire his friend’s work. his curious nature took over and a few seconds later he was sitting on a table, going through pages and gasping quietly. these were just simple sketches of the gang members and random people he didn’t know, but to him it felt like michelangelo drew them himself.<br/>
and then, suddenly, his heart stopped beating for a while. the next few sketches were probably the most beautiful from them all, but what made them special was that… <em>he was on them</em>. studying plans, cooking dinner, drinking coffee. and then there was this one, particular drawing of martin lying down on a field, completely naked. which he wouldn’t complain about, if that actually ever happened. it took him a few full minutes to understand that berlin had to think about him too, he had to spend countless hours to imagine how his body looked like, how his muscles reacted to that exact movement. suddenly he felt like a dumb teenager, noticed by her biggest crush. he felt the butterflies throwing a big ass party in his stomach.<br/>
and then he heard the door open.</p><p>“buenas noches, amigo mio”, he heard a deep, quiet voice long before he saw its owner. it must’ve looked kinda funny – martin sitting on a table, with his mouth wide open, cheeks softly flushed and a sketchbook in his hands, andres standing just a few feet in front of him, dressed up in a perfect, black suit, grin forming on his lips. “what are you doing here? had a bad dream and felt the need to cuddle up?”, said berlin, laughing quietly. he was whispering all the time, which made the whole situation far more complicated than martin ever imagined. “i-i just wanted to spend an evening with a friend whom i haven’t seen in a long time, is there something wrong with it?”, palermo answered, trying to put the sketchbook back where it was. he watched berlin lit up a few candles and his heart skipped a beat when he saw him unbutton his shirt. swearing under his breath, martin opened a bottle of wine, poured it and handed one of the glass to andres. “are you trying to get me drunk and take advantage of me?”, said the other one, laughing and taking a sip. “you wish, dickhead”. “oh, no, i don’t. I don’t need to wish for things i already have, right?”<br/>
“you w-what?”, said martin, feeling his face turn red, and then completely pale. <em>does he know?</em> andres laughed in response. “i’m just messing with you, idiot!”. <em>god, he doesn’t know</em>.</p><p>a few bottles of wine later they were both sitting on the bed, talking about the upcoming heist. it was very far from romantic, yet martin couldn’t focus on the conversation. he just kept staring at andres, his eyes, his bare chest, the way his hands moved so smoothly, the way their knees were touching…<br/>
“hello? would you mind not ignoring me for a second?”, said berlin, maybe a bit too loud. “yeah, sorry, i was just… thinking about what you said about the gold and all…” “yeah, stop lying. i know you were thinking about me”.<br/>
martin’s face turned red again. “stop flattering yourself, andres. you’re being too egoistic again”, he laughed, trying to hide his nervousness. “do you really think i didn’t notice? ever since i came here you couldn’t stop staring at me. like i was the only person in the entire fucking universe. am i? tell me, martin. am i the only person in the universe for you?” “i…”, he whispered, putting the glass back. this was the first time in his live he was scared.<br/>
but there was no room for fear and stress. not today.<br/>
“what if i said yes?”, he answered, looking berlin dead in the eye. he saw a little smile dancing on his lips. <em>fuck. he knew</em>. “then i’d probably say thank you and act like nothing ever happened. is that what you want?“ “no, andres. that’s not what i want. you wanna know what i really want? to feel your hands all over my body, to see your lips wandering on my skin, to be able to have you for the rest of my days. i want to let you see me like you imagined me in your drawings”, he said, and regretted that immediately. <em>fuck, fuck. fuck!</em><br/>
“then do it. let me, martin. let me see you the way i always wanted to”.</p><p>the room was filled with silence, moonlight and a tension that could be cut with a knife. none of them made any move, although both of them wanted. none of them has ever seen the other one being so overpowered by emotions like that. they were looking at each other with passion, lust, maybe even love. words were useless in a moment like this.<br/>
and then they just couldn’t contain themselves anymore. now, instead of two people, there were only hands wandering, breaths mixing, lips touching. the moment of passion they were having was so intense, it quickly became much more than just kissing. berlin pushed palermo back onto the bed and literally ripped his shirt off of him. his lips were on martin’s lips, neck, arms and chest, leaving small marks and bites all over his hot skin.<br/>
<em>te amo, andres</em>.<br/>
“what did you just say?”, berlin whispered, rising up quickly. “nothing…” “martin. don’t say it if you don’t mean it. you can’t just-“ “i can, and i fucking will. i spent too much time trying to figure out how to get to you. i wasted so many years on loving you, when i could’ve just loved someone else. i’m tired of waiting. i can’t just run around hooking up with random guys when all i think about is you. i can’t stop thinking about you dying without knowing that i loved you. yes, andres. i love you, and i’m not afraid to tell it whenever i fucking want to.”</p><p>he was lying there, waiting for a response. he was prepared to be rejected, he knew berlin cared about women too much to pay attention to a man. he thought they did what they did only to never talk about it again.<br/>
but he was wrong. maybe he didn’t hear “i love you” back, but he felt berlin’s lips on his own. soft, warm and sweet like honey. this time their kisses were slow, passionate; they were trying to know each other. palermo’s hands were slowly studying berlin’s body, trying to remember every vein, every muscle, every curve possible. he felt andres’ big hands gently trace his ribs, hips and thighs. it started to drive him crazy; he couldn’t take any more of those subtle butterfly touches. he wanted berlin to be harsh, to leave bruises and scratches on his skin. he wanted berlin to take full control over him, to be on him, over him, inside him. he wanted him everywhere.<br/>
and that’s what he eventually got.</p><p><br/>
</p><p>“there was this one time, in the mint, when i thought i was going to die. i got hit in the head so hard it felt like it was over. and i had just one thought before i passed out.”<br/>
“what was it?”<br/>
“i thought, <em>martin’s gonna be devastated</em>. i forgot about tatiana, about every other woman i’ve ever had. all i could think of was you.”<br/>
“so… you knew.”<br/>
“yes. i knew it all along. i knew it ever since i saw you on my wedding. it was at this moment i realized i chose the wrong person.”<br/>
palermo looked up and saw tears in berlin’s eyes.<br/>
“<em>te amo tambien, martin. siempre te he amado.</em>”</p>
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